Under Wraps
by Anna Nigma
Summary: The only thing An loves more than good mystery is solving it. Shiraishi Kuranosuke is that mystery. He's just hoping to survive the experience with his sanity intact. Game on! AnxShiraishi. Rated for safety.


**Disclaimer: While I **_**am **_**prone to delusions of grandeur my therapist assures me that I don't actually own this. Ah well, can't win 'em all I suppose. **

**A/N: I should probably be working on the sixth chapter of Butterfly Effect but I think at this point it's safe to assume that my muse has ADD. **

**A big thanks goes out to my lovely, helpful, patient beta, strawberry ponta-chan, for editing this for me even though I'm lazy and distracted. : )**

_**When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey.**_

**~Antoine de Saint-Exupery **

**Under Wraps**

Shiraishi Kuranosuke thought that Tachibana An might just be the scariest girl he'd ever met.

There was nothing about her that should have made him feel that way. She was friendly, cheerful, and genuinely seemed interested in nothing more than reconnecting with old family friends. There was just something about her that made him feel uneasy. Perhaps it was the worshipful expression on Miyuki's face or the way she always seemed to be laughing at something or how she'd managed to wrap the entirety of his team around her little fingers in the span of a single visit.

Perhaps it was nothing more than the fact that talking to her always made him feel like he was standing in the path of a particularly small, pretty bulldozer.

Whatever it was the fact remained that she made him nervous.

He couldn't even _remember_ the last time something had made him nervous.

It was unsettling.

He hated that.

**Prince of Tennis**

Tachibana An thought that Shiraishi Kuranosuke might just be the most interesting boy she'd ever met.

Initially she'd been vaguely intrigued by him because he'd managed to beat Fuji-kun in a match, something An, like most people who knew the tensai, had believed impossible. Then she'd actually met him.

An, for all that she seemed breezy and bubbly, was very self-aware. She knew exactly what it was about him that had caught her interest: Shiraishi Kuranosuke was a mystery.

Or, more specifically, his _bandages_ were a mystery.

There were very few things in the world that An loved more than a good mystery.

One was solving them.

This was going to be _fun_.

**Prince of Tennis**

An suppressed a smug grin and glanced up at Oshitari Kenya in a way that she knew made most boys inclined to do whatever she asked. Shiraishi-kun had been shooting her nervous looks since she and her brother had arrived that morning. It was only their third visit but so far things were going well. She hadn't found out much about the bandages but she was far from upset about it.

An loved challenges almost as much as she loved mysteries.

She had known from the start that this one would require more patience than usual. Shiraishi had already proved himself a cut above her usual opponents in that he was immune to her usual methods of persuasion. Most boys would have been in a puddle at her feet by now. He resisted.

It was . . . nice.

As much as An enjoyed getting her way it had gotten much to easy as of late. Right around the time of her last growth spurt she had suddenly found that convincing boys to do as she asked was almost aggravatingly simple. For An, growing breasts had been like being handed a skeleton key to the universe. Finding a door they didn't open was both a shock and a treat.

The fact that said door was both extremely dishy and possessed of some serious tennis skills was simply a welcome bonus.

Plus, the way he flinched a little every time she made a sudden movement was just _too cute._

**Prince of Tennis**

This needed to end.

He really couldn't take much more. He was beginning to feel downright _hunted_ and it was making him twitchy.

Shiraishi Kuranosuke was _not_ twitchy.

Ever.

He would have liked to believe that no one but him noticed this fact but Chitose was practically omniscient when it came to these things and after five visits he'd learned enough about Tachibana An and her unsettlingly sharp eyes to know that not only did she _see_ it but she was _amused_ by it.

This week she hadn't even brought her brother along with her, which was bad news for everyone as he seemed to be the only person other than Shiraishi who was wise to An's tricks. He hadn't let her come alone of course, but Gin's younger brother was just as duped as everyone else.

The worst part was that she'd actually started _talking_ to him recently. She hadn't exactly ignored him before and she wasn't precisely singling him out now but the level of attention he was garnering had definitely increased in the past two visits and he didn't like it one bit.

She wasn't flirting per say, there were no batting eyelashes or pouting lips or any of the other tricks she routinely used on his comrades. But there was something about the knowing glances she threw him as she reduced Kintarou to a blushing puddle, something in the fierce way she smiled when they discussed his backhand that left him feeling hot and uncomfortable. She made him blush for no reason and stutter and generally make an idiot out of himself.

It _needed_ to end.

And the second he figured out what exactly _it _was, by God he would end it!

**Prince of Tennis**

An sidled quietly up behind her target.

"Hi," she chirped, suppressing the urge to smirk as the boy in front of her jerked violently and dropped his tennis racket. Sometimes he really made it too easy. She managed to compose herself before he turned around.

"Tachibana-san–"

An sighed dramatically, interrupting him before he could finish what would likely be a rebuke.

"It's An-chan! An-chan! I tell you every time I come to visit!" She pouted charmingly at him and crossed her arms. She knew very well that indignant was a good look for her. She was rewarded with the subtle blush rising on his cheeks.

"And I tell you every time," he bit out through clenched teeth. "That I'm not comfortable calling you that."

He really did. And from there it usually devolved into a rather circular argument where she teased him about being old-fashioned and he answered back with as much patience as he could muster. Today she'd already decided to switch up the pattern.

"Then what about Tachibana-chan?"

"I'm not old fashioned! I just . . . Wait. What?"

An giggled slightly at the perplexed look on his face. He really was very cute.

"I said, why don't you call me Tachibana-chan instead?" she said cheerfully.

He stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth without saying anything.

"Th-that, that's doable."

"Are you sure?" she teased. "You can test it out if you need to, just to be sure."

He turned red and glared at her.

"I don't need to test it out!"

An grinned and answered back and they fell easily into their usual bickering. Contrary to popular belief she was a very patient person when it came to the important things in life. She knew very well that the only way to eat an elephant was a bite at a time and while it wasn't immediately obvious she knew she'd just made an important step towards achieving her goal.

She bit her lower lip and stared up at the fuming boy in front of her through her eyelashes.

She had him playing at her pace now.

This game was _hers_.

**Prince of Tennis**

This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

He was supposed to be able to ignore her. He was supposed to be _immune_. He wasn't supposed to be calling her An-chan and wondering when she would visit again. But he, well, he . . . was.

It sucked.

It really, really sucked.

But just because he was softening towards here didn't mean that he was suddenly going to become one those useless idiots that followed her around begging for her attention. That wasn't his style. He had _way_ more backbone than that, way more pride and self-respect. He absolutely refused to let her know that he was what felt like a few dangerously short steps from being putty in her hands. That would be as good as signing his own death warrant.

He'd seen the way An-chan treated the boys who worshipped her like that. She wasn't mean, not really, but she _was_ dismissive. Once she had you hooked you were no longer interesting, once she'd figured you out her attention waned quickly. It was almost cruel, though he knew her well enough to know she didn't intend it to be.

So he'd continue on the way he had from the beginning. He would keep running, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to resist chasing him. If keeping her at a distance was the only way to ensure she stayed by his side then he'd do it.

He'd do it.

But he wouldn't like it.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

**Prince of Tennis**

An usually loved being right.

She gloried in it. Reveled in the feeling of knowing she had been correct, especially if it meant someone else had been wrong. An was not a particularly good winner.

She had been _right. _Shiraishi Kuranosuke was the most interesting boy she had ever met. He was gorgeous, good at tennis, and utterly immune to her charms.

She had been _right_. She should have been basking in her usual euphoria by now, should have been happy at least. She'd discovered the greatest mystery of her young life and she should have been having a ball solving it.

And she had been.

When she'd first started this game she'd been overjoyed to finally be facing a worthy opponent, someone who was her equal, someone who would challenge her.

And now she wasn't.

It wasn't that the game had suddenly gotten less fun. The dissatisfaction had snuck up on her, creeping into her heart so quietly that she hadn't noticed until it was far too late to simply shove it out. It had already sunk its claws into her deep enough that even the things she had once found fun were becoming progressively less so.

Because the game would eventually.

Games always did. A winner and a loser would be determined, the game would be over, and An would be stuck facing off against opponents way below her skill level once again except now it would be even worse because she would know what true competition felt like.

An usually loved being right.

But, just this once, she wished she'd been mistaken.

Winning was going to be lonely.

**Prince of Tennis**

Something was wrong.

Over the last few months An had taken to showing up at least once a week, usually twice, but she'd suddenly disappeared for two weeks without any warning whatsoever. She hadn't been answering her phone either, not that he'd tried calling her more than once or twice. It was pathetic how distracted her absence was making him, it was a constant aching itch, like a spider bite or stitches right before they're due to be removed.

He wondered if this was simply a new strategy. He wondered if she was simply regrouping. He wondered if she'd simply given up on a game she wasn't winning.

He wondered if she'd finally gotten bored.

He thought about her a lot.

About the way she laughed when she really meant it. About her smile in all it's many incarnations, from the sweet to the smirking. He thought about her hair and her eyes and her voice. He thought about how much he hadn't expected to miss her.

He missed her.

Graduation was in a week. One way or another this had to be resolved. He couldn't let it end like this, a quiet fading when everything about An was explosive and brilliant.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

**Prince of Tennis**

There were few things in life that An loved more than winning. Her family and her friends basically made up the entire list.

Today she wanted nothing more than to lose.

She wasn't going to.

She stared longingly at the figures practicing on the courts in front of her. Her victory was virtually assured. Her longer than usual absence and the sudden shock of her presence without any warning beforehand would be a blow that would swing things heavily in her favor.

She took a deep breath and walked towards the courts, she managed to get right up behind everyone without them noticing.

Good.

The match was Shiraishi against Chitose-nii. She watched the boy who'd been the target of all her efforts for the past few months and sent up a silent prayer. _Win,_ she begged. _Please, please win. _She wasn't talking about tennis.

"He's distracted today," she said cheerfully and even in her current mood she had to laugh at the way everyone jumped.

"AN-CHAN!" everyone seemed to scream her name at once.

She accepted the outpouring of affection with her usual good humor, making a concerted effort not to look in his direction to find out his reaction. After the commotion started to die down she could no longer resist.

_Don't le me win. Please don't let me win._

He was still standing on the court seemingly frozen from shock. She caught his eye and smiled brightly at him. He smiled weakly and sent a shaky nod in her direction. He moved slowly towards the benches, taking his time putting his equipment away, and practically trudged over to where she was standing.

She greeted him cheerfully and conversed with the group until the novelty of her presence had worn off. Eventually everyone but the two of them had scattered, leaving them standing in unfamiliar silence.

"It's almost graduation," she said, her voice purposefully hesitant and soft.

He turned to look at her and nodded solemnly.

"You're going to school in Tokyo right," she gave her tone a deliberately hopeful lilt.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"I'll expect you to repay all these visits with you being so close. You've raked up quite a debt," she paused, dropped her jovial tone and switched back to uncertain. "You will visit won't you?"

He looked at her for a long time as if he were trying to determine what she was about, what she wanted, what her goal was and for a moment she was buoyed by the hope that he was going to call her bluff and the game would continue. _Please, please don't let me win! Not now. Not yet._

Then he smiled.

It was different than his usual skeptical, nervous smirk, softer somehow. Her spirits abruptly plummeted. The jig was up.

"Of course," he said softly. "If that's what you want. Of course I'll visit."

An put on her brightest smile, the one that usually guaranteed her whatever she was asking for. She turned the conversation to harmless topics. Offers to show him around the city, some of her favorite places to hang out, eat, and play. Carefully, gradually she worked the subject around to the topic of his bandages.

"I don't know if I want to take you swimming," she teased. "Wouldn't your bandages get messed up?"

He laughed, startled, seemingly not upset with her dig in the least.

"These?" he said with a chuckle, holding up the offending limb. "I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to let Kin-chan in on it. Promise?"

An fought the urge to flinch and promised in her sincerest voice.

"There's nothing under the bandages."

"Nothing," An repeated, honestly shocked.

"Nothing," he said cheerfully. "I burned myself cooking at the beginning of the year and while I was wearing the bandages for that I jokingly told Kin-chan that my arm was terribly poisonous when unwrapped as a last ditch effort to make him behave. When it worked I just decided to leave them on until I found a better method. So far I haven't found one."

An didn't respond. She couldn't. All this work, all this effort, for such a meager reward. There was nothing mysterious or interesting about the bandages at all. They were a simple hoax, as insincere as the smile and the laugh she managed to muster in reply to his story.

She lingered for just long enough to cover her disappointment and to throw suspicion off her reason for such an odd line of questioning before bidding the team goodbye and walking away.

She did not return.

**Prince of Tennis**

He stood outside Fudomine middle school with his hands in his pockets, the picture of collected patience. He ignored the sidelong looks he got from the girls leaving for the day. There was only one person here he was interested in.

He had a plan.

He'd known for weeks that An was only visiting because she wanted something from him. What exactly she wanted had remained a mystery for a while and even then he hadn't known for sure until her last visit that she was after the knowledge of what he was hiding under his bandages.

But she hadn't wanted it, not at the end. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her face fell momentarily when he fed her that cock and bull story about kitchen injuries and scaring Kin-chan. She had wanted an excuse to keep coming to visit and he had denied it to her.

So he was coming to see her.

He liked her. There was no point in denying it at this point and he was fairly certain that she was well on her way to returning his feelings. She just needed a push. One last excuse.

He had one.

"Shiraishi-kun?" her voice sounded honestly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

She was just as pretty as her remembered. His memory hadn't failed him there. And she looked ridiculously cute in her school uniform. Tokyo certainly had its perks.

"You asked me to visit you, right?" he replied. "I'm just keeping my promise and taking you up on that offer for a tour."

"Is that so?" she said, still sounding surprised.

"Yeah," he said with a nod and a sheepish smile. "I also have a confession to make."

She sent him a deliberately flirty look and he repressed the urge to grin. That sort of trick wasn't going to work on him. He'd honestly thought she knew better.

"Oh really?"

He moved closer to her and felt triumph in the gradual blush that rose in her cheeks.

"I lied about the bandages."

Silence. Then, "What!"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I felt kind of bad about it so I wanted to tell you. So where are we going?" he looked at her expectantly.

"No where until you tell me what's actually under those things!" she said indignantly. She looked more honestly frustrated than he'd ever seen her.

"Nuh-uh An-chan," he chided. "You're going to have to figure it out on your own. Just telling you would be no fun."

She stared at him in frozen, silent shock for a few moments before she grinned at him, her usual animation filling her entire being.

"You have no idea what you're getting into," she said, her voice warning and gleeful at the same time.

He did. And he was ready for it.

He smiled back at her, already contemplating the fun of the weeks and months to come. _She_ was the one who didn't know what they she was in for. Shiraishi Kuranosuke didn't lose, not when it counted.

And this really, really counted.

He held his hand out to her and she took it eagerly, practically dragging him down the street, talking away at a million mile and hour. His smiled transitioned easily into a grin.

Game _on. _

**A/N: Doneski. Finally. This was yet another project I managed to get finished during NaNo and I'd love to hear how you felt about how it turned out. Reviews are, as always, appreciated and adored**


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